


Designated Troublemaker

by zalil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Boy-Who-Lived Neville Longbottom, Detention, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, Headmaster Severus Snape, James Potter Lives, Lily Evans Potter Lives, M/M, Sirius Black Lives, Snarry AUctoberfest 2020, Teacher-Student Relationship, what a way to avoid making a memory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:48:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26804623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zalil/pseuds/zalil
Summary: While Neville goes to hunt for Horcruxes, Harry and his friends remain at Hogwarts and rebel, playing whatever pranks they can on the Death Eaters. When Harry plays one prank too many, Snape reminds him of the consequences - in a very special way.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 43
Kudos: 204
Collections: Emergency Thirst Aid Station, Snarry AUctoberfest 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to my wonderful betas and cheerleaders, [JocundaSykes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JocundaSykes/pseuds/JocundaSykes), [LikeLightInGlass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Likelightinglass/pseuds/Likelightinglass) and [Aristi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aristi_Fortuna/pseuds/Aristi_Fortuna). Without you, the fic probably wouldn't have been finished! Also, my deepest devotion to the mods, who are doing all the work to make this fest possible.

"Now," Ron whispered from the corner of his mouth, eyes on Carrow's back.

With a twist of his hand, Harry dispersed the powder under the table and plunged the room into sudden darkness. A few of his classmates gasped in surprise, then frantic muttering started all around.

"What the—!" a voice from the front of the class sounded.

A small chuckle at his side told Harry that Ron was just as happy with Carrow's outraged shout as he was. The wanker deserved more for "suggesting" they practice the Cruciatus Curse on each other again, but it wouldn't do to get special attention from the Death Eaters. The Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder was ingenious in that it not only disrupted the lesson nicely, but also made the culprit hard to catch. A definite plus, even though it wasn't the funniest of all the pranks Harry and his friends had executed—top of that list was still the time they charmed the statues in the hallways to whack the Carrows on their heads when they walked past them.

After a few failed Lumos and other spells that were probably supposed to light up the room, Carrow gave up, stumbled towards the door and, barely audibly among the agitated chatter, dismissed the class.

"Good one," Seamus mouthed as they reached the corridor and gave Harry the thumbs-up.

Dean held out his fist and Harry bumped his against it, thoroughly satisfied with the outcome of their planning. They had counted on Carrow being too annoyed to make them move to another classroom.

On their way to the Great Hall, they rounded a corner, and Harry, still grinning, barely managed to stop short before running straight into the Headmaster.

"Mr Potter," Snape said silkily, fiery eyes betraying his anger. "Would you care to explain why you are walking away from a disrupted lesson with a look of glee on your face?"

Harry swallowed.

*

Snape was reigning Hogwarts with an iron fist—or wand, as it were—yet he had never taken the discipline of the students into his own hands. Until now.

Harry wasn't afraid of the Carrows. The faded bruise blooming over his left eye was testimony to their cruelty, but they were stupid and had little imagination. Snape was a different story, though. Just a few short months ago, Harry could have sworn he was irascible and petty, but definitely on their side. He had even considered him cool; a dashing double agent who was living a dangerous life for the cause. 

Neville's story of what had happened on the tower, however, had shocked Harry out of his blooming adoration. This new Snape, the _real_ one, was more than a little terrifying in his coldness and easy duplicity.

So, wandering along the corridor leading to the Headmaster's office for his detention in the evening, Harry thought his prank was looking a little less glamorous.

When he entered the office, he found Snape sitting at his desk, fingers steepled together, with his eyes boring into Harry’s as soon as he stepped through the door. Quill and parchment were lying in front of Snape, untouched.

Harry walked up to the desk, realised there was no chair for him to sit in and kept standing.

"Sir."

The irritation in his voice scraped the border of what could be considered respectful.

Snape just stared at him, long enough for Harry to start fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. Finally, Snape stood and walked around the desk to lean on it, tapping his fingers against the surface.

"Mr Potter," he said at last, "you have exhausted my colleagues' options of corrective feedback, a task not easily achieved. It seems you are determined to advance to a higher level of discipline."

Despite his nervousness, Harry fought to keep a shit-eating grin off his face. Carrow was such a tool and pissing him off was the greatest joy of half of Harry's year mates. The other half liked watching him flail from a distance. And they were just as happy to annoy his sister when she was on what she called "curfew duty". It was good to hear Harry's efforts were recognised.

"Well, I guess your colleagues' options aren't all that extensive, are they?" Harry asked sarcastically, running his hand through his hair. It was about as cheeky as he dared be, alone with the traitor in his office. Judging by the way the corners of Snape's mouth twitched downwards, he wasn't very impressed.

"You think you are clever, don't you?" Snape’s fingers curled so tightly around the edge of the table they were white. "Just like your father. He never knew how to behave around his betters either."

His dad? Harry's cheeks burned. How dare Snape talk about his dad—his dad, who had given Snape a chance at Mum's request, had been decent to him at Order meetings, even though he and Sirius had guessed what kind of person he was all along?

"My definition of 'betters' must be different from yours," Harry said, taking a small step back when Snape pushed off the table.

"Watch your tone, you insolent little agitator," Snape spat. Little specks of spittle were flying from his mouth, drawing Harry's attention to it.

"Or what, you're going to give me even more detention?" he challenged while backing away. Harry was aware that his mum was probably going to have a really stern talk with him about how he was not to taunt the enemy when he caught up with her later. His back hit the stone wall behind him and he stopped, with nowhere to go except flee the room.

"Or I will silence you myself," Snape hissed, stopping right in front of Harry.

Forcibly tearing his eyes away from his moist lips, Harry deliberately locked eyes with him. He was not too afraid to speak his mind, especially when his family was being slandered.

"At least my father stands for what he believes and isn't a bloody cow—"

Something dangerous flashed in Snape's eyes and he lunged at Harry, crossing the last few feet between them. Harry threw his hands up, realising that he possibly should have drawn his wand, but thankfully, Snape didn't attack him with magic. He caught him by the arm, spun him around and had him pinned against the wall, face first, with his hand twisted on his back, in a heartbeat.

Thankfully, Harry's shoulders and chest took the brunt of the impact. Crushed as he was against the wall, all kinds of body parts were screaming abuse: the cold, hard stone was scratching hard against his naked cheek and, with a little less force, down the clothed line of his body. A grunt escaped from his squashed lungs. Even though Harry had already fallen silent, Snape didn't seem inclined to let go of him, on the contrary, his hold on Harry's arm made it feel close to snapping. Harry's heart was beating fast with excitement and while terrified, he also felt a detached curiosity as to what was going to happen. Was Snape allowed to hurt him permanently? Harry didn't think the Ministry was that far gone, but who knew?

He tried to shift to the side to give his arm a little more leeway, but he was well and truly pinned, with no space for movement. Snape was standing so close, his whole arm dug into Harry's back, his body heat spread along Harry's lower body and his breathing was far too loud at his ear for Harry's taste. Harry flushed, humiliation washing over him only a moment later. His brain remembered rather well who was pressing up behind him and despised the traitor with all his being, but for some reason, his seventeen year old body got excited, nonetheless.

"You need to learn when to shut your smart mouth," Snape said and gave his head a little push. Harry gasped, turning his head further to the side—just in time to avoid collision with the wall.

"Bloody hell, you can't do this!" he ground out, frustrated with how easily he was incapacitated.

"I am the Headmaster, Potter, you'll find that I can do whatever the fuck I want," Snape said, not letting up. "Who is going to stop me?"

"I'll report you," Harry breathed, exhilarated.

"I'll expel you," Snape answered.

"You can't just do that!"

"You are right, Potter, I cannot just do that," Snape said, voice turning gleeful. "I'd have to involve a member of the Hogwarts board of Governors. I am fairly sure my esteemed friend Lucius could be persuaded to join a clarifying discussion between the two of us. Would you like me to Firecall him?"

Harry swallowed. He had only met Mr Malfoy two times, but Neville had told him about the Malfoys' involvement in the first war and Harry knew what his parents thought about him. From all that, he gathered he did not want to include Malfoy in any discussion involving himself.

"I could call him right now..."

When Harry didn't answer, Snape pushed his hand up another notch. Harry bent forwards in reflex to the sudden pain, pressing his lower body against Snape's. He immediately recoiled as if stung by an adder. There was not much room to move away, though. He cursed the teenage hormones responsible for his half-hard cock and willed it to go down again.

"Let me go," Harry demanded when shifting to the side just didn't work.

"Try again nicely and I may just."

Harry gritted his teeth. He really didn't want to obey, not when he had gone out of his way all year to piss the Death Eaters off, but he also didn't want to spend more time than necessary with Snape plastered to his backside. At least, he didn’t want to want it.

"Let me go, sir," he tried again.

"Not quite, Mr Potter, you can do better than that."

Snape's voice had infuriatingly turned from angry to amused, now that he was in a position of power. Harry took a calming breath and braced himself.

" _Please_ , let go of me, sir."

Almost immediately, his hand was free and he turned around, a move that, while solid in theory, brought him face to face with Snape. His wand was pointed at Harry's face and a hopeful glint in his eyes revealed his eagerness to hex Harry for any forthcoming disrespect. With his free hand, he reached for Harry's face. Harry wondered whether he was supposed to just let him, but there hardly seemed to be an alternative.

Snape took his chin and jerked it up to make Harry look at him. Harry barely held back an unmanly squeak. For some reason, his knees went weak from the way Snape was holding on to him and watching him intensely. He had lowered his wand and looked as if he were enjoying himself, too. His firm grip made Harry wonder what his hands were capable of outside the classroom. That didn’t help the erection situation a lot.

"I hope you are exceedingly proud of the commotion you have caused."

Harry blinked and tried to keep his eyes on Snape's. He did not want to look down to his lips again and give him the wrong impression—no matter how flustered he was and how much concentration it took to keep his mind on detention and warfare instead of touches and erections.

"Why, if you keep going like this, you might just attract attention from people in even higher places," Snape went on softly.

Judging by his fading volume and colour, he seemed to be calming down. Harry hoped his newfound focus didn't extend to Harry’s trousers and the way they tented from their hands-on interlude. Had he noticed already? Harry had had a little alone time in the shower in the morning, but he was young, easily excited and not used to other people's hands on him—it had been some time since he had last had some action.

Snape sighed in frustration.

"They've been teaching you nothing at all, have they?"

What? Who? Confused, Harry tried to think back of what they had been talking about, but he couldn't find the connection. Snape gave his chin a little jerk and Harry tried to pull away, but he held on fast. He pulled Harry’s face a bit closer to his, even, and Harry flushed again, waiting to see what was going to happen. To his relief—and disappointment, if he was being honest with himself—Snape only used the opportunity to stare into his eyes.

"Trusting fools… Your mind is wide open for anyone to waltz in and make themselves comfortable inside," he went on, obviously enjoying his incomprehensible lecture. 

It sounded as if he were talking about reading minds. Was that possible? Harry had never heard of it, but he wouldn’t put it past Snape to use Dark Arts to look into someone’s head. 

"Actually, if we're to get anywhere at all today, we may need a distraction of larger proportions.” Snape sighed. “We might as well put those teenage hormones to use. I’ll thank you not to get me killed."

He let go of Harry's chin and braced his arm on the wall, fencing Harry in.

"Undo your trousers, Potter."

That was… unexpected, to say the least.

"Really funny, sir," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, making sure not to touch Snape who was standing far too close still. What was he playing at?

"Don't act as if your delicate sensibilities were offended," Snape said offhandedly, "I can see what you're thinking of and it suggests you're not the dainty maiden you pretend to be."

He dragged a finger against Harry's forehead, making him flinch away. He _was_ talking about reading minds! Was he doing magic without saying the spells out loud? He couldn't have known that Harry was thinking about wanking in the shower, could he?

“You know nothing about me!”

"Potter, you are a seventeen year old boy, I could have guessed that without _reading your mind_. But never mind that now. Close your mind, or, if you don't know how to do that, undo—your—trousers."

Harry raised his chin, strangely offended that Snape called him a boy.

"And why should I do that?"

Snape's mouth opened to reveal crooked, yellowish teeth in a grimace that could have been, with a lot of imagination, a grin.

"Because you want to know what I've got to tell you. Besides..." He let his eyes flicker down and didn't add more, but his smirk was telling. Harry just knew he had noticed. Damn it.

"You're welcome to leave and finish your detention with Professor Carrow, if you'd prefer… although I won't be held responsible for any… unfortunate outcomes."

Yeah, Harry could imagine how that would go. Also, even though he didn't know what Snape was on about for half the conversation, he was interested to hear what else there was to know.

"I could help you undo your trousers if that would make it easier on you?" Snape raised an eyebrow. He didn’t seem to have any moral objection to what he was asking of Harry at all.

"Pervert," Harry whispered, figuring they were well out of range of any appropriate teacher-student-interaction already.

A chuckle told him Snape wasn't taking his insult personally. Pity. Harry decided to go along with Snape's order and his own straining cock and started on his belt, wondering how the hell he had got himself into this surreal situation.

"Good," Snape said, his first real commendation ever towards Harry. It was hard to keep back a snort at the irony. "Keep your head down, don't look at me."

It was rather hard not to look up at Snape when he was standing only a few inches in front of him, eyes on Harry’s fingers while he was undoing his trousers. He was so close that Harry could smell the unique mix of herbal potions ingredients that would forever stick in his robes.

"Go on, Potter," he murmured, "distract yourself and listen."

He had leaned closer to the side of Harry's head, so Harry couldn't see his face. Still only ninety percent sure he wasn't misinterpreting the instructions, Harry reached into his trousers and closed his fist around his cock, giving himself a much needed stroke. He bit his lip to keep from moaning. From the tense silence, he gathered he was still on track for whatever Snape was getting at.

"Go on," Snape urged him and Harry's hips stuttered forwards, eager to get more friction.

Even though Harry’s heart was racing, he easily fell into a trance, listening to Snape encouraging him with nonsensical drivel ( _Good, stop thinking and relax, Potter, see and feel your hand moving, keep your mind nice and blank_ ) and slowly stroking his cock, up and down, to the rhythm of his talking. He had a feeling he was doing something he would regret afterwards—or, at the very least, be not too keen on telling people—but it felt good and might even give him leverage later. Surely Snape was not supposed to make students wank in his office? The sounds of Harry’s hand on his cock alone were downright filthy and even though Snape pretended to only want this for some obscure safety reason, his head was turning down rather a lot to watch Harry stroking himself. 

__Aware of Snape's attention, Harry’ breath hitched in excitement as he watched the picture his cock made, foreskin pulled back to reveal the wet, purple head sliding through the ring of his fingers._ _

__"Does this tick a box on your Death Eater bingo?" he asked without rancour._ _

__"I've already won the Death Eater bingo," Snape answered in a low voice. "Now listen,_ _

__"The Dark Lord has very little interest in what goes on at Hogwarts. He is occupied with far more important things and trusts his dedicated servants to take care of anything that needs to be handled here. But if certain students keep on disrupting the lessons of loyal followers, he is going to hear of it and take notice."_ _

__Harry slowed down, surprised, and tried to look up, but before he could, Snape’s fingers settled on his hair and roughly turned his head away again._ _

__"No—don't stop, don’t look at me, we want you nice and focused on your cock. Good. Now, if you'll keep this behaviour up, heroic as you may think yourself, you will only drag unnecessary attention to yourself and I can assure you, being the centre of our Lord's attention is nothing to be desired."_ _

__Harry almost thought he had misheard, but he was pretty sure the Headmaster had just told him to focus on his cock. That, in his dark voice, was distracting indeed. Harry almost didn’t pick up the things he said about Voldemort, which probably meant the distraction plan was going rather too well. Harry’s unoccupied hand went to his balls, squeezing lightly to stave off the arousal that was building too quickly._ _

__"I'd recommend picking your battles if you are planning to have any more battles at all."_ _

__It sounded like advice to keep his head down for his own safety, and in a non-threatening, caring way. Why Snape was telling him all this, Harry couldn’t have guessed. Neither did he have any idea of why it was important he wasn’t concentrating or looking at Snape’s face._ _

__But he knew it was the most exciting sexual encounter he had ever had, even though Snape wasn’t even touching him. For some reason, it was making Harry feel even dirtier that Snape wasn’t distracted by anything, but calm and collected and coolly focused on Harry and what he was doing. The notion made Harry’s stomach flip and his cock leak. He twisted his hand, rubbing his thumb over the head, and couldn’t help imagine the traitor’s long, deft fingers touching him instead of his own._ _

__“Fuck,” Harry said, realising he was close to coming already. If Snape had something else to say, he’d better say it now. “Anything else?”_ _

__“Tell your mother I still keep it, she’ll know what that means.”_ _

__Harry’s head shot up this time, but Snape seemed to have expected it and slipped his hand over Harry’s eyes. Having his fingers on his face shouldn’t have been exciting, especially not when he had just been talking about Harry’s mum, but his firm grip made something in Harry snap and realise how absolutely wrong this situation was, and he nearly choked on his spit as he was coming in short spurts, all over his own trousers and—he couldn’t help it—Snape’s robes._ _

__Harry let his head fall back against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment. It had been rather overwhelming, in the end. He heard movement and guessed Snape was moving away, but didn’t have the energy to open his eyes and make sure. Even though he was coming down from his high, he wasn’t feeling as guilty as he had been expecting. Mostly, he felt sticky. He gave his cock one last cursory stroke and wiped his hands on his trousers._ _

__With a sigh, he finally opened his eyes and found Snape standing beside his desk again, robes clean as if nothing had happened at all. His cheeks, now a healthy pink instead of the usual sallow, were the only indication that wasn’t true. He was eyeing Harry, who still had his trousers open, with a strange expression._ _

__Harry knew that the moment would end as soon as he moved and reflected on what he wanted to do—he knew that whatever he was going to choose would have consequences. For a second, he was tempted to raise his sticky hand to his mouth and suck the come off it teasingly, but considering the look Snape was giving him, this seemed to be a dangerous path and Harry had enough to think about after the evening’s events without getting himself into even more trouble._ _

__He settled for fastening his trousers while keeping his eyes locked with Snape’s. As soon as he was done and had vanished any evidence of his wank, Snape made him sit at his desk and write lines while he was strolling around his office._ _

_I must not disrupt Professor Carrow’s lessons or suffer the consequences._

__Harry didn’t mind the work as his mind was still on Snape’s words. He didn’t remember everything clearly, but it was obvious that he was concerned for Harry and that there was a possibility he still felt some loyalty to Harry’s mum, at least. Well, the year was far from over. Harry had been bummed he had had to come back to Hogwarts instead of going on a mission with Sirius, Neville and Hermione, but now, there might be a mission for him here._ _

__When he was done with the ridiculously low amount of lines Snape had assigned him, he set the quill down and cleared his throat. Snape swooped in and snatched the parchment away from him. He planted his hands on the desk and looked down at Harry, raising an eyebrow._ _

__"Now, Mr Potter, this was the last time you were doing lines for detention. I hope you have learned your lesson. If I catch you disrupting class again, you will face… unforgivable consequences."_ _

__“What if I need another talking-to?” Harry asked, looking up at Snape in a way he hoped was rakish and a little suggestive. Maybe Snape was open to share more secrets with him if he proved trustworthy._ _

__“Do try not to need it,” Snape answered drily._ _

__Harry’s face fell. Of course, Snape had never claimed to enjoy watching him, but it was a little disappointing to be brushed off like this nonetheless._ _

“If you did, one would hope you’d take a stroll and have the good sense to wear _a cloak_ against the cold.” 

__His eyes were boring into Harry’s, making sure he got it. Harry smiled and nodded. Being Hogwarts’ designated troublemaker had its perks._ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, endless thanks to the lovely [LikeLightInGlass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Likelightinglass/pseuds/Likelightinglass).

Snape's message led to the biggest row Harry had ever witnessed between his parents, when he relayed it (omitting the circumstances of obtaining it) from the fireplace in the back of the Hog's Head half a week later. Harry's mum was cautiously hopeful that Snape might be on their side after all and his dad was having none of it. While Harry had known Snape was a sore spot for both of them, he hadn't realised the extent of it and wondered whether something had happened when they had been at school together.

Not wanting to stoke the fire any more than necessary — times were bad enough as it was with a Dark Lord rising — or facilitate their communication so much he wouldn't be necessary as a messenger any more, he vowed to keep further information to himself for the time being. Harry's parents tended to exclude him from Order business to protect him, but he was old and capable enough to do his part in this war. Especially when it was as exciting as the last detention.

Harry did keep his head down for some time, adhering to Snape's instructions. He took to watching him, trying to find out where Snape's loyalties were really lying, but it was impossible to tell. He was short and irritable with the old teachers as well as with the Carrows and favoured the Slytherins just as he had before. He did comply with the Ministry's orders concerning the changes at Hogwarts and gave the Carrows far too much leeway in disciplining students, but he couldn't have refused them if he wanted to blend in. Maybe he was a double agent, maybe not. Maybe he was a triple agent, wanting to trick Harry into believing he was on his side when he really wanted information about the Order. And maybe he was just a pervert getting off on watching Harry wank.

The only time Harry did think Snape's allegiance to the Order might have been showing was when he found him in the corridor one evening, dressing down a first year Hufflepuff while Alecto Carrow was gleefully watching. The boy was crying and dying to get away, but there was nothing Harry could do for him, he knew that; the Potters were well-known enough that anything he said in his defence would backfire and get the boy into even more trouble. But he could try to divert their attention to himself.

He pulled his shirt out of his trousers and mussed his hair a little, then sauntered into the teachers' line of sight, whistling. He was so conspicuous, at least Snape had to know he was doing it on purpose. But his eyes only narrowed for a moment, then he turned away from the Hufflepuff boy, who saw his chance and bolted.

"Potter," Snape barked.

Harry stopped and walked a few steps closer to him. Carrow was still looking amused. She was running the nail of her right index finger under the nails of her left hand, cleaning them. Harry hated her so much, he could feel the emotion burning in his gut.

"Sir?" Harry answered carelessly, hands in his pockets.

"What are you doing out of Gryffindor tower?"

Snape's voice had a hard edge Harry didn't warrant. He was perfectly in his right to be wandering about. It wasn't curfew yet.

Carrow smirked, starting on the other hand.

"Nothing, sir."

"If you are so scantily occupied you have time to strut around in this state of disgrace," he eyed Harry's shirt, "you can help the school by scrubbing cauldrons or such. Report to my office tomorrow at eight o'clock."

"Right," Harry said, trying not to look excited. "May I go now, sir?"

Snape jerked his head to the side, bidding him to go. Harry tore his eyes away from him and left without a word to Carrow.

*

Harry was far too tense for a quiet evening in the Common room, driving Ron round the bend with his missing focus on the chess board. When Ron had bested him two times without any effort at all, Harry decided to have a quick shower to distract himself and work off any excitement before setting off for his detention.

The intimate situation of the last one had instilled the hope in him that Snape really was on his side and he had to consciously talk himself out of putting too much trust into the man. That Snape had watched him jerk off was no proof of allegiance at all, Harry was smarter than thinking that. Still, it was their secret and Harry wanted to keep it to himself, not even taking Ron into his confidence.

This time, when he arrived, a desk and chair were sitting in the middle of the room, illuminated by the soft glow of the lamps hanging from the ceiling and a few candles floating around the room. Now that he was better prepared and could pay attention to his surroundings, he noticed the portraits of the former headmasters, dipped into shadows. Most of them were empty, and the inhabitants of the few that weren't seemed to be sleeping — not that Harry would take that at face value. He sincerely hoped they had indeed been sleeping or out of the picture last time and hadn't got an eyeful of what he had been doing.

Snape was working on a stack of parchments and only gave Harry a cursory glance and wave to take a seat before he returned to it.

"Good evening, sir," Harry said and sat, waiting for instructions.

Snape seemed to be in a mood, slashing his quill forcefully across the pages. It took some time until he finally set it down and levitated a book onto Harry's desk. _Curses of the Darker Kind_. That didn't actually sound like a school book.

"You will copy lines today," Snape said, distracted. "Starting with this book."

"Starting..." Harry echoed. Copying lines? He had thought it had been clear he had only rescued that boy from detention or worse, that he was actually expected to do something was a surprise. Weren't they supposed to be working together to keep the students safe, if Snape was really on his side?

"I have to write lines?"

Snape noticed his disappointment, shoved the stack of parchment to the side with a sigh, stood and walked over to his desk. Leaning against it, he looked down on Harry, lips curled into a small, amused smile.

"Unless there is something you'd rather do, of course?"

Harry leaned back in his chair and unconsciously licked his lips. He didn't want to seem too eager, but he had actually hoped for a different, more interesting detention.

"There might be," he answered, trying to keep his voice low and firm. "What's on offer?"

As he looked up between his lashes, hoping he'd make an attractive enough picture for further mischief, Snape's smile deepened and he stroked a long, bony finger along his own jaw where a shadow of stubble was darkening the skin.

"Eyes closed," he instructed and Harry complied, heart racing with anticipation and the excitement of giving up control.

He felt Snape's breath on his ear as he must have leaned forward to murmur into it, and his voice took on a quiet, seductive quality that Harry hadn't heard from him before.

"Mr Potter, colour me surprised by your very dedicated, yes downright heroic jump into the fray right after we've established you'd better keep out of the spotlight. Pray tell me, has the message failed to sink in or have you mistaken a tedious, necessary means of subterfuge for a... flirtation?"

His words were still coming softly, like a caress, which made their vicious meaning seep in with a few moments delay. When it did, Harry felt his stomach sink. Now that he thought of it, Snape's expression had been nice, too nice. He had never seen him smile like that before, especially not when he was being questioned.

Fingers stroked over his cheek, light as feathers and he jumped, eyes opening of their own accord, but he pressed them firmly shut, supposing it would anger Snape even more if he disobeyed him again.

"Are you labouring under the impression that after the last detention, we have become chums? Comrades in arms?"

The voice hardened and became snide while the fingers slid down his cheek again, over his neck, and into the collar of his shirt, tugging until he had to lean forward. His eyes flew open at that and he found Snape staring at him, only a few inches away. His brow was furrowed and his mouth twisted into a sneer. He couldn't have projected more derision if he had tried.

"Would you like to be in charge of all our futures?" he mocked.

Harry resented his implication that he should be sitting at the kids' table of the war, so to speak, but he knew which answer Snape wanted to hear.

"No," he breathed.

Snape pulled him closer by his collar, so he had to stretch up a little to prevent it from tearing.

"No?"

Harry swallowed.

"No, sir."

Snape seemed a little mollified at that, eyes glittering, but he did not let go.

"Since Professor Carrow is out on patrol today and could turn up any minute, I deemed it imprudent to engage in any… conversation," he purred, "but tell me, Mr Potter, what's _your_ qualified opinion on the matter?"

Two more tugs and an index finger tapping Harry's bottom lip punctuated his name.

"Speak, boy," Snape snarled, looming over him.

Harry felt his cheeks heat up with the unfairness of it all. He was _not_ a boy any more and he couldn't have known Carrow was on duty, could he? Would it kill Snape to tell him like a normal human being?

"I didn't know _your_ virtue was in danger," he said defiantly.

Snape snorted.

"It's not a question of virtue, but of loyalty, idiot child."

Harry gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the insult. If Snape could read minds, of course he would know that being called a child needled him most. And he knew Snape couldn't be seen with him in a passionate embrace, he wasn't actually an idiot.

"I could make it look like I wasn't enjoying myself too much," he said, pulse picking up speed and cock jumping at the thought of repeating their last scene, even with an audience. He was pretty sure these detentions were counting towards a less than healthy sexuality, but he was alright with it, right now.

"Fool, do you want to give them ideas? Is this version of Hogwarts not dramatic enough for you?"

Snape pushed him back into his chair which wobbled, but didn't tip back.

Of course he didn't want it to get worse. The Carrows were horrible enough, thank you very much, and Harry had a feeling they hadn't even reached their full potential. And the things he had heard of people called 'Snatchers'… If the Ministry decided there should be more Voldemort-friendly personnel to keep the students in line, they were fucked. But the way Snape insinuated he needed more drama at the cost of others angered him too much to give a proper response.

"Leave me alone," Harry answered instead, cheeks coloured by anger and shame. He had been half-hard by the time Snape had dangled the prospect of any kind of play in front of him and for some reason, his derision had brought him to full hardness instead of turning him off. Not that he was going to tell the bastard.

"I will do as I see fit," Snape countered, retreated to his own desk and summoned _Curses of the Darker Kind_ back to himself. "Up."

Harry stood, unsure of where this was going. Did Snape want him gone?

"On the table, clothes off," Snape clarified, levitating a glass jar to Harry's desk. "If the great Harry Potter requires drama, he shall get it," he added viciously.

Harry stopped short of sitting on the table.

"What about Carrow?"

"That's _Professor_ Carrow to you, Potter," Snape sneered. "And you should have thought of that before, hm? Do your best to look like you're _not enjoying yourself too much_ if he stops by."

"You wouldn't let him in," Harry said, hoping for reassurance, while he pulled off robes and jumper and sat on the table.

"Why ever not? All of it, Potter."

He waved impatiently at him, indicating the rest of Harry's clothes.

"I haven't agreed to anything yet," Harry said, stalling. He hadn't had to strip last time, had he?

Snape leaned forward on his table.

"You will undress fully, get up on that table and have the detention you wanted, drama and all. There will be no talking back any more or you will suffer the consequences which I think I listed quite extensively, the last time you were here."

Malfoy, expulsion and detention with Carrow, Harry remembered. And now there was always the threat of others finding out what had happened. Harry reluctantly opened his shirt, button for button, painfully aware of Snape's gaze on him.

"To summarise, you are being forced to comply for my entertainment, so kindly do stop acting as if you had any say in the matter."

The worse the things were that Snape was saying, the more honest he sounded and Harry had that feeling again, the feeling he was setting something up with his words rather than meaning them.

Harry probably could have tried to take his wand out of his trousers, but he knew Snape's was in his sleeve and he was faster drawing it. Running was no option either, he'd never make it more than a few steps before Snape caught him in a hearty Petrificus. And then there was the matter of his cock, straining against his trousers and begging for attention.

Harry let the shirt fall off his back without ceremony and undid his trousers, then shoved them down with his pants. Only then did he realise that he was still wearing his shoes and he had to crouch down awkwardly to unfasten the laces and get them off. When he was done, naked as the day he was born, he sat on the edge of the table, legs dangling, cock standing to attention despite Snape's harsh words. The room wasn't cold, but there was a light breeze of air that made Harry's skin tingle and nipples harden.

"Get to it, Potter."

Harry leaned back and gave his cock a good stroke, letting his eyes fall closed. Apparently, Snape was going to watch from afar today, which he thought was regrettable. He had enjoyed the whispering in his ear and the touches, last time. It had also been far less shameful, since he hadn’t been so exposed and ogled from afar. But there was nothing for it and even with the distance between them, the air was so thick with tension, he could have cut it.

"Stop," Snape said quietly. "Open your eyes."

Harry opened them and found him sitting behind his desk, unfazed by what was happening in front of him.

"Open the jar."

Harry did and sniffed the clear substance inside. It didn't smell of anything. His best guess and hope was that it was simple lubricant and not some disgusting ingredient.

"I trust you know how to use it?"

Snape's provocative tone had Harry refuse to ask for further instructions. The lubricant was cool on his fingers, and even chillier on his cock when he wrapped his hand around it, giving an embarrassing little gasp. When his eyes fluttered shut again, Snape objected.

"I clearly remember asking you to open your eyes, Mr Potter."

Harry's eyes snapped open again. Hadn't that been the point? To distract himself from remembering Snape?

"Keep them open," Snape ordered and Harry did.

He kept his gaze on Snape while he gave himself a good, slow stroke, watching for any reaction, but there was none. Snape's dark eyes were locked with his, glittering in the dim light, his hands lying in his lap, unmoving, as he watched Harry.

Another firm stroke and Harry's mouth fell open. Sitting on the desk in the nude with his cock in his hand was undignified, crass, like an animal giving into his instincts. And Snape's cool stare, not giving him any indication that he enjoyed any of it, made it even worse. Harry might as well be a magical creature for his inspection. He had never felt so dirty before. The thought made his cock spurt a little, adding to the slickness of the lubricant that had his strokes sound obscene in the quiet of the room.

The desk was hard underneath him, his pose unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Harry leaned back on one hand and jerked off with the other, like Snape had implied he should. He didn't dare tug on his balls or pinch his nipples, as he usually did when wanking, sure that Snape would ridicule him.

He was light-headed from excitement and shame and growing more horrified by his own courage with every minute when Snape interrupted him again.

"Is that the best use you can find for that?" he indicated the lubricant with a jerk of his head.

It took Harry a few moments to process his question, then he stopped his hand abruptly. With a mocking little grin, Snape swirled amber liquid in a glass Harry hadn't noticed appear.

"Afraid, Mr Potter?"

Snape took a sip, then put the glass down again and pushed it away with the back of his hand while shifting on his chair.

Harry was half off the table, nervous about what was coming. He knew what Snape was hinting at, but that was not something he usually did or had wanted to explore. This was it, the time to stop playing with fire and tell him he wasn't going along with it any more, that he'd accept any other detention as long as it was a proper one.

Snape only straightened, though and Harry waited.

"Dip your index finger into the jar," Snape instructed, then watched as Harry hesitantly complied.

So far, there was no harm in going along. And he didn't want to give Snape the satisfaction of admitting that he really was afraid. He was a Gryffindor and proud of it.

With rather more bravado than he felt, Harry followed his instructions and held up his finger for Snape to see.

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Pull one leg up on the desk," he went on, calm as you please. When Harry didn’t obey immediately, he raised an eyebrow and tapped his fingers impatiently on his desk.

“All the drama, Potter. Let me remind you that you wanted it and let that be a lesson to you."

Harry pulled up his leg, hiding behind it, but Snape shook his head until he let it fall to the side.

"Good boy. Now go lower, underneath your balls and rub it on your skin."

Harry did, ball of his thumb rubbing across his sensitive balls, fingers on the strip of skin parting balls from arse. He had never touched himself there, had never even thought it might be pleasant and was surprised to find it felt weird, but not bad. It was weirder that Snape was praising him, calling him a good boy as if he were a dog doing a trick.

"Lower," Snape said, voice finally turning a little hoarse, showing that he was not all that unaffected by what was happening. He took a larger sip from his glass and summoned the bottle again to refill it. "Lower, Potter. Where's that vaunted Gryffindor courage?"

Obediently, Harry let his finger drop another inch. He couldn't believe how much this detention had escalated. Here he was, sitting on a desk, naked, with his legs spread, with a finger rubbing at his arse, afraid and still going along with it. If Snape ever, ever showed anyone his memory of this event, Harry was ruined.

"Now push that finger inside yourself.”

Harry bit his lip and pushed his finger inside shallowly, keeping his gaze locked with Snape's. It felt weird and uncomfortable and got an abbreviated nod from Snape, so he pulled back a little and did it again.

"Deeper," Snape demanded, leaning back in his chair.

And Harry pushed deeper, twisting his hand so he'd get a better angle, but there was none. His finger felt strange inside him, the pleasure coming from the depravity of his situation and Snape's interest more than the sensation itself.

"Another."

"Huh?" Harry answered, breathless and distracted.

"Another finger, Potter. Do try to keep up, you're not pretty enough to play dumb."

"No."

He shook his head. That was a hard no, declining not only another finger but everything that might happen afterwards, and Snape seemed to sense Harry's resolution.

"Fine. Move it and start to stroke yourself again. Quickly now, Carrow might arrive any moment."

Harry knew Snape was just playing with him, creating tension where there needn't be any, but he succeeded and Harry was more aroused for it.

It proved impossible to stroke himself and fuck himself with his finger at the same time without lying back, so, after an ungracious trial, he did, laying himself across the length of the desk. Immediately, Snape levitated the desk and turned it sideways, exposing Harry fully to him, arse first. This put Harry into an even more vulnerable position as he couldn't see anything but the back of the office.

It did nothing to impair his hearing though and through the roaring of the blood in his ears, Harry thought he heard a rustle of clothes. The implication spurred him on and provided the last excitement necessary to bring him to the brink of orgasm. A few more strokes, a random curl of his finger and a sudden jolt in his arse, promising more pleasure up that alley tipped him over. Come spilled over his fingers while his hips jerked up into the air of their own accord as if to fuck into a body, unaided by his helplessly twitching thighs. When he was well and truly spent, he sank back with a sigh and sprawled on the desk, boneless.

There was no afterglow on a study desk, Harry found. He pulled his finger from his arse and wiped it on his thigh, then rested both hands on his lower stomach, grimacing at the feeling of the slick mix of sweat and come pooling there. He had not quite caught his breath when a thump sounded from Snape's desk.

Harry jumped and leaned on his elbows to see him. Snape was leaning on his table, his fingers clutching the edge tightly, his cheeks pink and his eyes seemed to burn through Harry's, sparking with something Harry couldn't identify.

"Out," Snape said urgently, voice rough. "Detention served, you are dismissed."

His agitation made Harry try to stand, even though his legs felt as unsteady as a fawn's. That his wand was lying in the pile of clothes a few steps away meant that he had to get there, dripping. With a grim sort of satisfaction, Harry watched drops of come run down his legs and trickle to the cold stone floor. Snape watched him silently, lips pressed into a thin line.

A quick cleaning spell and an awkward shuffling into his clothes later Harry was dressed and hovered awkwardly. Snape had dismissed him already, but he felt it was not much of a goodbye.

Snape didn't move from his desk, just bid him to go with a jerk of his head.

When the door closed after Harry, several locks magically snapped into place with the sound of metal scraping against metal, sealing the office more tightly than Azkaban. Despite the rude goodbye, the corners of Harry's mouth turned up in a smug grin. Apparently Snape was not _that_ unaffected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that escalated quickly. Stay tuned to see whether it escalates more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always welcome.
> 
> This work is part of the Snarry AUctoberfest 2020. The creator will be revealed after all works have been posted.


End file.
